This isn't the post I've been trying to work on in the background while life happens all around me at crazy pace and drags me in insane directions, but I thought I'd keep that one on ice while I shared this little snippet of life.
I am (trying to) study the techniques used by the past masters. There is something that their work has which is rare and valuable which so much art today lacks.(This is the subject that my pending blog is on BTW). I want to capture that; bottle it, and use it. Wish I could!
As part of that quest I ordered, via amazon.co.uk, and using a voucher that I won to fund it, a number of books that I have been patiently waiting for for a month and a half. I ran out of patience, and after hounding Amazon repeatedly my five, very expensive, high quality books finally arrived on Saturday. I paid my import duties and was presented with a torn bag of soggy, buckled books and very damaged packaging, literally falling out as they hit the counter. How A4 size hardcover, coffee-table style books get bent in two I'll never know. The books were wet, the pages glued together (one so badly that it is in effect a block of paper mache), and every one of them looking like they had fallen from the plane somewhere over the amazon jungle and then driven over by logging trucks. What on earth did they DO to them?! For a book lover (that's called a bibliophile my dear children) such as myself this was like receiving the head of a decapitated child in the mail. Oh the horror! Literally worm food.
Needless to say Amazon were superb and are sending me replacement books at their cost as we speak (and I had been waiting in breatless anticipation for sooooooo long already!) ... I suffer the additional import duty, but ah well, such is life. The books are everything I hoped they would be in respect of content, so I am reassured that I ordered well ... but what a shame!